She hugs us both warmly. We say goodbye to Sarah; Ben is waiting for her in the car with the radio playing. It turns out he’d been keeping to lime sodas all night so that Sarah could have a drink. In the end I stuck to sparkling water too so I drive us back to the farm, the sky just starting to darken around us.
Lorna sighs happily.
‘I can’t believe I’m getting a second chance with Sarah,’ she says. ‘And with Jack too. I honestly never thought it would happen.’
We smile at one another.
As I drive back to the farmhouse I run through everything in my head again, trying to make sure there’s nothing I’ve forgotten. I know it’s just a birthday party, but so much seems riding on it somehow. I might not be able to fix everyone’s problems or make Lorna stay or solve the issues at the school and the looming threat to the island. But I want to at least throw a party to remember.
Later, when Jack and I are alone in our room, he pulls me towards him.
‘Did you have a good time at the pub?’ he asks, kissing my neck. Since our heart to heart after the Caora Island incident he’s been more affectionate than usual, I think both of us craving physical closeness as well as the intimacy that came from finally telling each other how we were feeling. My skin tingles as he kisses me.
‘It was nice,’ I reply, struggling suddenly to concentrate as his kisses reach my collarbone.
‘Wine clearly agrees with you, Mrs Irvine,’ he teases. ‘You’re glowing.’
I don’t tell him that I stuck to sparkling water all night; instead I let him continue kissing my shoulders, his hand in my hair.
‘You’re gorgeous, Alice,’ Jack whispers into my ear. My heart leaps and dives as I tilt my head and kiss him on the mouth. As he kisses me back it’s suddenly hard to think about anything except the feel of my husband’s arms around me, the warmth of his mouth on mine and the firm and hopeful beating of our hearts as he guides me towards the bed we’ve shared for nearly fifteen years, the place that feels the most like home.
Chapter 39
Lorna
And suddenly, it is Ella’s birthday. Fourteen. I can’t quite believe it. The sun is shining today; it’s a perfect day for a birthday. The kitchen is strung with homemade bunting and a huddle of balloons are tied to the back of one of the chairs. Alice and I prepared it together last night.
Alice turns around from the Rayburn as she hears me enter the room, bacon and eggs sizzling in a pan. It must be the smell that draws the others down too, because first appear Ella and Molly, shortly followed by Jack.
‘Happy birthday, my darling,’ I tell Ella, kissing her on the forehead.
Her cheeks turn bright red when she spots the decorations and she sits somewhat nervously at the chair, the balloons bobbing above her head. But before long she is digging in to her breakfast, chatting with Molly about the party. Once Jack has finished his food he heads out to get some work done in the fields before the afternoon’s party, but not before giving Ella a quick but firm hug.
‘Happy birthday. I wish I didn’t have to work but at least this way I’ll work up an appetite for cake.’
He winks at her and she smiles widely.
Soon after Jack has left, a knocking comes on the front door.
‘Can you get that please, Lorna?’ says Alice, the dishwasher open in front of her and a pile of plates in her arms.
I’m surprised to see Mallachy standing at the door, a scruffy but beautiful posy of wildflowers in one hand.
Ella appears in the corridor beside me and Mallachy hands the flowers to her.
‘For the birthday girl,’ he says, his ears glowing pink.
Ella holds the flowers very gently, raising them to her face and taking a deep breath of the sweet smell.
‘Oh, thank you! No one’s ever given me flowers before.’
I resist the urge to put both hands on Mallachy’s face and kiss him firmly on the mouth. This week we’ve spent every afternoon together. I’ve become used to sitting beside him at his desk in the studio, the sensation of a pencil or a brush in my hand starting to feel familiar again too. I’ve been working feverishly, in fact, piles of sketches and watercolours forming beside me, most of which I’m too nervous to really look at once I’ve finished them in case after all this time I’ve lost the knack. It’s easier not to scrutinise them too closely but it feels so good to be working again, almost as though decades’ worth of drawings and paintings are forcing themselves out of me onto the page. Yesterday we took a break from the studio to carry a picnic down to Mallachy’s secluded stretch of beach. We ate fresh mackerel salad among the dunes then undressed one another slowly, the sun adding its own kisses to our bare skin. As I look at him now my face grows warm at the memory.
‘Hi, Mallachy,’ comes Alice’s voice behind us. ‘Are you all set for today?’
Mallachy nods.
‘What’s going on?’ I ask them.
